Beautiful
by TheScarlettSecret
Summary: She may be immortal in their eyes, but even that apparently doesn’t change the fact that in one point in time, she would eventually turn into a teenage girl. A short piece on Hermione and her insecurities, as well as everything she is.


**Disclaimer:** Anything you may recognize as something created, thought of, or owned by the lovely lady Miss Jo Rowling belongs rightfully to her. I'm just lucky enough to get to play with it all.

_The Scarlett Secret  
_Presents  
_Beautiful_

Hermione sized herself up in the mirror. Inside she knew that if either Harry or Ron saw her doing this, they'd immediately dash to the dungeons and hold Snape at wand-point, demanding to know where the real Hermione was, and who the imposter using Polyjuice Potion was without a second thought. She half smiled to herself at the idea, remembering their first year, and their firm belief that Professor Snape, was, without a doubt, evil. But, no. It turns out that the girl in front of the mirror was, indeed, Hermione Jane Granger, the girl they all loved (and hated, depending on how soon the next exam was).

She may be immortal in their eyes (hence the reason she could concentrate on _Hogwarts, A History_ for more than ten minutes), but even that apparently doesn't change the fact that in one point in time, she would eventually turn into a teenage girl. Which came with not only cramps that would bring Lord Voldemort himself to his knees, but insecurities as well.

She always waited until Lavender had left the room to really look at herself. She had to, the mirror was always bent to Lavender's will, the other girl being constantly in front of it. In case a hair changed position while she was brushing her teeth, or finding her wand. It was a very dramatic experience if such a thing happened. Which it always did. Hermione thought the mirror was beginning to take on the girl's shape as well… which could be slightly problematic, seeing as if it did so, it would no longer contain the space needed for Hermione to view her hips, which never seemed to stop growing. Lavender was just too thin. She pressed her hands to her hips, trying in vain to squish them in. She remembered a time when hips were all she wanted, and laughed in spite of herself.

Hermione was not beautiful. No matter what pose she was in, or how much Sabrina's Straightening Serum she used, she was simply not a beautiful girl. Ginny, Ginny was beautiful. Cho was gorgeous. Fleur… well, if Ginny was merely _pretty_, Fleur would be a _goddess_. There was simply no denying the fact that Hermione was not beautiful. Her lips were not big, though not thin. Her eyes were simply brown, her lashes too short, her hair a mousy color, and as easy to contain as Hermione herself was. She was a little too tall, and her torso a little too wide. Her chest was fine, although nothing any boy's eyes would linger over for long.

The one thing she liked were her cheekbones. They were her grandmother's, apparently. Stories said that that woman could get gold out of cotton if you left it in a room with her for ten minutes. Her tongue was sharp and her will strong. Hermione liked to believe she was like that, but it was moments like this, in front of a mirror, when it was hard to do just that. Freckles dotted her face, which, she was proud to admit, was not as pale as you'd expect. But that came from the sunlight reflecting off the white pages of textbooks during her summer vacation.

Occasionally she had daydreams, farfetched as any, where someone would come along and give her a makeover. An American cousin, perhaps? Straightening her hair and magically enhancing her breasts, making her so beautiful Draco Malfoy would drop to his knees blushing. But then she'd laugh at herself. She'd hate to be made over as such, as something she was not. Standing in front of that mirror, she realized this.

She was Hermione Jane Granger, girl with dull looks, but high cheekbones, and a force to be reckoned with (much like her hair). She wasn't beautiful, but she wasn't ugly either. She could dress herself up stunningly if she wanted to, and have half of Slytherin's boys at her feet. But that was the point. _If she wanted to._ And you know what? She didn't. She just plain didn't.

She gave the mirror a cocky stare and left her dorm with her chin up high, closing the door firmly, and with it, locked away all self esteem issues she'd ever had. She wasn't that girl anymore. She wasn't _a _girl anymore. She was Hermione Jane Granger.

And that, my friends, is _nothing _short of beautiful.


End file.
